


A Couple Handfuls

by Rinichey



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Firestorm Zine, M/M, Prequel, Shenanigans with a heartfelt ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinichey/pseuds/Rinichey
Summary: Even in the recesses of the Waste, there's still treasure to be found.
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	A Couple Handfuls

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> This is my piece for the Gueira and Meis zine; Firestorm zine! I want to thank all the mods for putting this together and thank you so much for allowing me to take part! I hope you all enjoy my work, and please go check out the rest of our contributors by going to the FireStorm zine twitter!

The Waste was an ugly scar on the once glorious nation. Thousands of unsuspecting lives, mammals and nature, taken in one single flare that permanently scarred the face of the Earth. Fifty states dwindled to a mere thirty in just the span of a few months and had become alien to those who survived. But to them… it was all they knew.

As barren and desolate as it was, it was home to many that strayed from the public eye. And sometimes, in the remnants of a great past, there would be one lone building standing in the sea of death. A broken house, a gasoline station by the framework. Billboards depicting the perfect nuclear family or a dust-ridden supermarket.

Whose house they stepped into, Meis didn’t want or care to know. He strayed away from the family portraits that miraculously hung on the torn wall with the furniture destroyed by the harsh heat. As much fun Gueira had impersonating cowboys, the weathered cowboy hat provided some shade. Scorching flames didn’t bother him, but shade was a gift.

His bat, lit by the tip out of sheer boredom, tapped the littered ground and left black scorch marks. “Gueira?”

“Kitchen!” Glass crunched under his boots as he let his bat bounce over the couch. The fridge hung open, and Gueira’s head hid inside a cupboard. “Nothing salvageable from the fridge. Most of the canned stuff is bad too.”

The sleeves of Gueira’s red jacket were too disgusting to tolerate; holey and covered in various food droppings. “Seriously, ditch the threads. There might be some clothes upstairs.”

“With my lanky-ass size?” His head finally popped out with that dumb baseball cap promoting some softball league neither knew. “I bet there’s also a hot tub and a golden horse waiting for me.”

Meis pushed on his shoulder, forcing the young man out. “Just go check, or I’ll burn it while you sleep.”

“You do and say goodbye to your cowboy hat!” Gueira yelled as he grabbed his crowbar on the unstable island and tapped it over his shoulder. His bat replaced the crowbar as Meis let his flames engulf his hands in protective armor before he went digging through the rest of the cabinets. He’d learned long ago to not stick his bare hands in dark places.

They were running out of supplies and fast. It’d been especially harsh when a tornado had blown through and taken one of their packs. They were nearing an upcoming town, but the less they stole, the easier it’d be to slip in and out without raising eyebrows. He’d have to resort to the map again; Lord only knew how many times they went the wrong way.

Some mummified rat corpses shriveled his nose as he slammed the cabinet closed. Anything that was left had been chewed through or became part of the molding ecosystem. “Shit.”

Steps back down the stairs signaled Gueira’s voice. “Meis, you gotta try the hot tub! And that 24-carat horse was fine!” Back came the ugly jacket as Gueira eyed fallen books heavily caked with dust. “Hey, a Bible.”

“Blessed this day,” Meis grumbled, slamming the last cabinet shut and retaking his bat. “Does it tell us how to hit rocks to get water or make bread?”

“Shut up,” Gueira flipped through a few pages, the crinkled and stale paper unwilling to bend. As Meis was chalking up this expedition as a loss, his partner nearly dropped the book. “M-Meis! Holy crap look!”

“More dead ra—” The sarcasm died on his tongue from the fistful of green shaking in Gueira’s hand. The middle pages were carved out deep enough for a small wad, the book clattering to the ground.

The trembling migrated through Gueira’s body, and Meis was concerned that he might start sobbing. How wrong he was when he threw his arms into the air. “We’re rich! Eat that, Meis!”

“Let me see!” He managed to wrangle some of the dough out of his grubby fingers, counting over the ‘20s. His eyes widened with every tick till his mouth dropped to compensate. “I can’t believe this…”

Stealing food and clothes were trivial, but take a man’s money, and the alarms rang violently. It was too much hassle to bother with when the paper didn’t feed them on long stretches through sandy graveyards.

“Aw, thank you, Lord! Our luck is finally turning around!” Gueira almost sang. Meis clutched the bills so tightly as if it’d wither into ashes on the hot wind. “You know what this means?!”

His mind was having a hard time catching up to his mouth, but Gueira seemed to have no trouble. His cheeky smile brought his twisting grip and they ran back into the desert heat.

The next town over was only a two-hour ride, with them hiking the last half hour so as to not bewilder any locals with their hellish bikes. The trip was long and weary, but Gueira never lost his grin, parading them past the motels on the outskirts. Their getup attracted many stares as Meis stared warily at his holey jeans that looked like the aftermath of a moth’s feast.

But finally, with tattered backpacks, they entered a quaint little establishment with potted plants and polished tiles. Meis got lost in the large archways while Gueira marched right up to the clean fellow operating the counter. After one initial scare of Gueira’s overexcitement and some fake IDs, they were both tapping keycards on the way to their room.

They ascended the elevator to the third floor, down the plush carpet to their door. The air inside had that hotel smell to it as Gueira ran inside to tackle the bed. “Fuck yeah, beds!”

“Bed,” Meis corrected him as he shut the door. Upon walking over, backpack being shrugged off, Gueira lashed out and snagged his wrist. He fell into the pile of blankets and soft bedding. A wild groan was muffled into the sheets as he instinctively wrapped as many blankets as he could over his back. “This isn’t fair.” He couldn’t recall the last time they felt such luxury.

“We got enough cash to stay awhile,” The heavy rolls of wads got Meis’ attention. “We can get whatever we want! On me, haha!”

Eyeballing, Gueira broke the wad into two. “Some spending money.”

Meis touched over the greens, then snatched the end of his raggedy jacket and yanked. “Get this piece of crap off the bed!”

After an initial struggle that ended with Meis’ hat and Gueira’s jacket on the floor, he’d managed to pin Gueira down, straddling his waist. He laughed when Gueira showed him his favorite finger. “Trust me, you look better without it.”

“And you look better without that dumb hat.”

How quaint it would have been to wrestle the man until they wore out and napped the afternoon away. Pretended for just a day they were normal without a care in the world. But his fantasy popped with Gueira’s hasty thrashes. “You gonna let me go? We got cash to spend!”

“Fine,” He raised his left arm and was treated to Gueira failing to account how close they were to the edge. He got double the middle finger when he landed on his ass and Meis snorted so hard that it caused him to laugh.

Leaving their belongings behind—going against a sacred burnish rule—they exited out onto the busy streets. Somehow, a small bundle of cash made him feel more at ease. He had the power now to look people in the eye without issuing some sort of power struggle.

Despite Gueira’s pleading to hit every store, Meis was firm on going to the grocery store before anything else. Not the gas station. Not a food drive. A bonafide grocery store that sold ripe fruit and more than one brand of toilet paper. They nearly cried over the crisp apples and bags of chocolate and figured they were worth it just this once.

After that, the strip down the sidewalk was theirs for the picking. Nice rope and water packs from the sports store accompanied their brand new boots just fine. Sunglasses? How about a pair for each and hell, they liked these flashy belts. The diner down the street turned no one away with waving cash, where they gorged themselves on hot toasted subs with huge sundaes bigger than their eyes for dessert.

For once, they could laugh and have it be innocent and not from a cruel joke. For once, they could be calm and not have to look over their shoulders for trouble. For once, they could be human.

Their fat stack had dwindled to a few bills as Meis counted his over a few times to solidify the number. Arms shook with bags of human necessities with Gueira faring just as well. “Remember when I said we got cash to stay a few nights?” He had slipped away his stash. “Better enjoy the bed tonight.”

“We could pool,” Meis suggested, but both froze at the faint glimmer from the store window. Mannequins dressed in suffocating skin-tight leather had the bell ringing faster than they or the storekeeper expected.

It was like two boys at the lake, scampering between aisles desperately checking price tags and sizes. Any piece would have broken Meis’ bank, and stealing something this high caliber would have sacrificed their heavenly sleep.

“Look at these belts!” Gueira was coming back down with strips of spikes. “How cool would this look? Bet some people would take us more seriously!”

A quick glance at the price tag dampened Meis’ mood. “Guess we’re sharing it.”

The belt was chucked over a rack as Gueira groaned. “How did we get so poor?”

A simple shrug rustled every bag. “Might be best if we leave.”

“Maybe,” Gueira’s steps were weighed down by his own materialism, stomping off as Meis clung to his items with some regret. Maybe they could hit the store on their way out before anyone woke up. It’d be cherry-picking season then.

Rounding the corner, the wall of leather jackets made him reconsider. He grabbed for the nearest one, the firm but almost soft leather yielding under his touch. Fingers hurried through the sizes and stopped abruptly at the perfect one. He glanced over his shoulder, took the jacket off the rack, and eyeballed the price.

_Ouch_.

Fingering through his money again, a massive rock settled in his stomach at having just enough. A faint ding went off somewhere in the store. Was it really a wise choice?

He set the jacket back, keeping his eyes off it just as he turned to find Gueira closing in. “Hey, I’m going to wait outside. You all done?”

He kept his hand over the cash in his jeans, thinking of hundreds of reasons why he should have said yes. “…Nah, I’ll meet you outside.”

“K, see ya there.” Given a mock salute, he watched that mop of brown hair glide over the aisles.

Jacket in hand, he made sure his partner wasn’t peeping and swiftly made his way to the cash register. A little stuffing into another bag and he walked out with a quarter and three pennies in his pocket.

By then, their arms were tired of carrying all their essentials. Dusk was waking up as they retired to their room; bags piled onto their bed with the TV on as a distraction. Clothes were shucked, save for his tank top, waiting on Gueira to stop using all the hot water in the shower. He tuned out most of the burnish propaganda as he nestled a pen cap in between his teeth.

A map of the new United States was ruined with lines, scribbles, and X’s of their journey so far. He circled the town they were in and mapped the fewest cities it’d take them to get to Promepolis. His pen tapped over their next destination; shouldn’t be more than a few weeks.

“Shower’s yours!” Steam puffed up as Gueira stuck his sopping mop head out. His cheeks had lost their fine dusting of sand, looking healthy for once.

That first shot of hot water over his greasy hair had Meis remembering all those sad times they had to heat stagnant water in a hurry to get clean and how far away they felt now. Such luxuries as these weren’t for them.

By the time he strolled out, towel around his waist, Gueira was kicked back with a mountain of pillows propping his back. The TV had been switched to a wrestling match, yet Gueira lost all interest as he strode over. “Felt good?”

“I think we can strap the shower to your four-wheeler.” His loose smile grew at Gueira’s laugh.

“I wish,” The bed creaked when Meis sat as Gueira fingered over one of his bags. “But the night’s about to get better.”

Meis quirked an eyebrow and expected to be treated to one of their bought snacks. How wrong he was when that gleaming leather was held aloft. “Ta-da!”

They were tossed into his lap as Meis fumbled to hold them. He’d never held pants so fresh and clean and exactly his size. “You bought these?”

“Yup! Figured you’d appreciate one good thing that would last.” Gueira seemed especially pleased, resting his arms over his head. “Sides, I wanna see how they fit.”

Meis nearly pushed his shoulder as his chest threatened to burst open from such overflowing joy. “We were thinking the same thing.”

Reaching over, he snagged his bag and gestured for Gueira to rummage through. That moment when he pulled out the jacket with eyes alight in innocent love was a memory he’d burn into his mind. “I thought you could use something good too. It’ll even fit your lanky-ass.”

Pillows toppled when Gueira suddenly sat up, slipping the sleeves over his arms. It fit like a dream, Gueira clutching the sides so tenderly. “Meis…” His eyes lightly shimmered with the biggest smile. “I love you so much.”

Neither made the first move when both came together. Lips slipped in a heated kiss that neither wanted to separate. He worked a small whimper from Gueira when they had to pull back and breathe. “Gueira…”

“Yeah, babe?” He could feel his lover’s heat fire up, hand slipping down his thigh.

“How much money do you have left?” The wayward question froze the mood. Meis knew the answer as much as Gueira’s dawning realization of his situation. They turned to look at the 3rd story window, and Gueira snickered. “Better have gotten good at your landings.”

That was deserving of a shove.


End file.
